


Spark s

by DarkFantasy



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Minimal spoiler, Rants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkFantasy/pseuds/DarkFantasy
Summary: They connect.In so many ways.





	Spark s

**Author's Note:**

> After watching RO, I wanted. Craved, desired, this movie to be so much more different.

She's beginning to do it purposely.

 

It started out like chance encounters, but as their 'meetings' get heavier and deeper, she subconsciously began to seek him out. More and more. Until it became an obsession. Or a habit. Or even. Just routine. Like it was absolutely necessary to do, every single hour, of all her waking moments.

Without much thought she hunts for places to be alone. Places where no one can know. Where no one can see. Where no one will learn the truth.

The idea of it is ridiculous. But still, if anyone caught her saying his name, the way she does, when she's alone with him...

 

 

 

The picture would not be pretty. The consequences. Endless possibilities on the kinds of disastrous it could become.

 

So slowly. Like the crawling of a snail. The movement of a stagnant pool. She grows to crave isolation from the rest. From her friends, from the resistance. From everyone  _but_  him.

And like breathing, she seeks out any and every shadowy corner. Huddling into it like a child would in their loving mother's arms. Comforted by the loneliness, content with the knowledge that no one will ever learn the truth.

 

The moment she's caught her breath, she senses him. 

And knows that he senses her.

 

Like breathing. 

Like clockwork. 

Like time.

 

It's impossible to think about fighting it.

This.This, thing, they have...

It's beyond comprehension. Exceeds everything.

 

They don't question it anymore. They simply meet.

 

And it is unpredictable. But when it happens, they always find themselves alone with each other. 

 

 

 

In her vision, he's coveting her in her dark corner. A spot she had just secured.

In his vision, she's standing tall in front him, blocking his latest hole in the wall.

 

She notices his breathing, sees the signs.

 

She had interrupted another one of his... episodes.

And though she doesn't see it, she knows there's destruction everywhere. The sweat on his skin says it all. It also tells her that it has passed. That it is over. 

 

He looks at her, eyes filled with nothing but that same burning anger, hate, and that need to damage. But as his eyes continue to meet hers, they melt.

It all ebbs and flows away, as if she has the power to make it all disappear. And in a way. She does.

He remembers his place.

He is resolute.

She helps him remember it all. And he does remember.

He clams himself,  _steady_ , he thinks.  _Put on a show. Just. For. Her._

 

And he's found some semblance of peace. Quiet.

 

He meets her eyes once more.

Her deep dark pleading pools. 

He doesn't need the force to hear her beg. She's already doing it.

 

She always does. 

 

Every time. All the time.

Always. Just begging.

 

When she sees him, she doesn't see him, but the possibilities. The chances. The so called, 'conflict'.

She tries. So desperately hard to see anything  **but**  him. 

 

And all she ever does, is beg. Beg him to do this. Beg him to do that. To be this, to be that, to not do this, or not do that, to not be him, but to be him instead.

He can practically see her on her knees, grabbing his garments tightly in her clammy fists. Looking up at him, eyes full of hope, and tears. Begging. Always begging.

 

But she's too proud to do it. To beg him so openly. No. He sees it in her eyes. But on the surface she talks to him, as if she and him were simply lost children, trying to find their way in the dark.

She doesn't know it, but her begging shines through. In her words. 

 

For the zenith time she spits at his past. Talks about his teacher. Talks about his father. Talks about turning. Talks about helping.

But to him, all she's doing. Is begging.

 

He watches her, plays with her. Toys.

Pretends he's listening. Let's her think that there is indeed, a chance. Even in hell. 

 

But he has seen the future. The vision he wishes for.

 

And none of her sweet stupid idiotic begging could change it.

Even when she reaches out to him.

Even when she touches him...

 

Though she is strong. She is also untrained.

He's had years to learn how to twist his own thoughts in his head. He's had years of practice. Years to learn how to manipulate the force like simple string.

And she's just like an open book.

 

Trusting fool.

 

She looks at him once more. And for a long moment, nothing happens.

Their breathing rises. 

 

And he suddenly has an odd thought.

And she suddenly has an odd thought.

 

They chance glances at the other's lips. 

 

 

Closing the gap.

Slow.

 

Slower.

 

 

Slowly.

 

 

 

 

Until the barest of touches,

Briefest of brushes.

Their lips connect.

 

She's the first to gasp. The feeling hitting her like a ton of bricks. Behind her eyes, everything explodes, the things she thought, the things she knew. It all suddenly becomes nothing in that moment.

 

And all she sees. All she knows. Is that she's a woman. And he's a man.

 

It's last time they ever kissed.

* * *

 

 

This is real.

 

It's not fake. It's not a dream... It's not the force.

 

They're really here. Now. In this place. In the same room, sharing the same space. Breathing the same air.

 

She's tired from it all, physically tired of constantly pushing against all her limits.

He's drenched in blood and sweat. Heaving like a dying animal, hunched, trying to clot an open wound on his side.

 

She's covered in dirt and scratches, something he finds severely irritating.

 

No matter how skilled he is. No matter how trained he is or how powerful he is, she is always somehow better than him.

How she does it, he doesn't know, but it irritates him none the less.

 

There are still sounds of war echoing around them. Sounds of people dying. Sounds of weapons firing, and bombs exploding. Sounds of war.

 

 

And it happens.

It finally.  _Finally._  happens.

 

She begs.

She drops her saber, and begs.

 

"Please. Ben. It doesn't end this way, I just know it... And you know it to don't you?"

He looks up at her, a wounded puppy, tired of being angry.

 

She softens more. Inches closer. Entering intimate space, picking him up, helping him out. 

Gently she glides her hands over his, asking permission.

 

He simply looks at her hands, and then back to her eyes. 

 

Slowly she adds pressure to the wound. 

 _let me help you_ , she says,   _let me help you heal._

In more ways than one.

She means to help him in every way.

 

As his bleeding finally stops, she cups a cheek. Looking into him.

Her lashes are long. 

 _Beautiful._ He can't help but think...

 

As he watches her close her eyes. He can't help but look at the rest of her. 

Her undone messy hair gives him delicious thoughts, the sweat and blood on her skin, on her clothes. The curves on her body, her lips, her mannerisms. 

As she brings her face closer to his, as he watches her eyelashes flutter close, thoughts pour in his head.

 

Thoughts from everywhere. Even after all he's done... 

He remembers his past. Thinks about his vision...

And then remembers her.

 

She made it all happen.

She made it all possible.

She was so strong. So powerful.

 

A single tear escapes him as he looks on. 

His present, his past, his actions, his decisions. After everything he's done. After all the people he's killed, the friends he's stolen from her... She still wants to kiss him. Even after calling him a monster so many times.

 

He sheds that tear. And let's it fall to the ground. Let's the sound echo and carry through the force. 

 

Let's everyone in the battlefield feel this moment.

 

And for a split second. It all stops.

The sounds, the screams, the cries and the guns.

 

He sees her smile.

 

And then he cuts her right down the middle. Bathing in her blood.

**Author's Note:**

> I never wanted to write in this fandom but I desperately needed something like this.


End file.
